


ESO - The Blades of Void

by calumTraveler



Series: The Dragonbreak Puzzle [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: 0_o, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Dubious Consent, Gen, More tags to be added, Orsinium DLC, Thieves' Guild DLC, Time Travel, crossin it over with skyrim, misc snips gonna go here, no idea what the argonian and bosmer were doing honestly, quest line spoilers., specially if they dont have any real coherent order to em, tags t' be upd8'd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calumTraveler/pseuds/calumTraveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[SPOILERS FOR ESO'S DARK BROTHERHOOD DLC, THIEVES' GUILD DLC, AND ORSINIUM DLC!]</p><p>Just more pieces of the Puzzle falling into Place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Result of Choices

"Wait. Both of you- just... wait." She sighed. It was a rare sight to see the girl looking defeated, but for Naryu and Razum-Dar both, it spoke miles upon miles of something being wrong. "Naryu, I was going to tell you earlier back in the cafe before we got interrupted by that guy who STARTED this whole mess, but... Raz, since you're here, I might as well tell you too... You remember Silica?"  
  
"Yes, this one remembers her." Raz nodded. "Short, spunky, wielded daggers like a hurricane. What of her?"  
  
"She disappeared almost a year ago now," Argo the Rat spoke quietly, softly. "Ever since I've been moving heaven and earth trying to find her again."  
  
"Oh... you..." Razum-Dar's ears fell. "Why did you not tell Raz?"  
  
"I didn't want you to worry," Argo answered. "I knew you'd given her those dueling daggers that one time, so..."  
  
"This one understands the sentiment, but hates that you did not mention it. This one could have put the Queen's resources into-" Argo's eyes were all that stopped him. "...It is not that simple, is it?"  
  
"Silica, Silica..." Naryu mused, "didn't you mention her a few times? Helped you and that Bosmer fellow fight Molag Bal? The one you thought might be your sister?"  
  
"That would be her, yes," Argo nodded.  
  
"...Well that explains why you'd join the Brotherhood of all people," Naryu's face met her hand.  
  
"And the Thieves' Guild," Argo added. "I also got a letter allowing me passage to Wrothgar... that's where I was going next after I finished up here on the Coast."  
  
"You're amassing connections!" Raz lightly hit the back side of his right hand with the palm of his left. "But whatever could you require so many nasty dark sided connections to find Silica for?"  
  
"There was a girl from Coldharbour Silica was traveling with who told me they were chasing after Werewolves Hircine disapproved of," Argo explained with a shake of her head. "The last one on her list was a Khajiit Werewolf who'd stolen an Elder Scroll from Cyrodil."  
  
"Dark Moons and Dull Claws!" Raz Exclaimed.  
  
"I'm not usually one to co-opt a Khajiiti turn of phrase but that's just about the right of it," Naryu agreed, quietly. "Dark Moons and Dull Claws indeed."  
  
"Their chase went past me and I followed them up into..." Argo took a breath. "Naryu, you remember that Ancient Nord Temple? Skuldafn?"  
  
"By every deity there is, you don't mean to say that foolish wolf-cat activated the portal to Sovrengard?!" Naryu asked.  
  
"The Elder Scroll did most of the work, I think," Argo laughed, quietly. "I'd tried to save Silica, who knows, maybe in another world I did, and got sent where-ever Silica is now."  
  
"But you didn't and she's now lost?" Raz summarized.  
  
"Yeah," Argo nodded. "I've been trying to figure out what to do in the mean time. On my own. Cal.... the Traveler's been doing his own thing too. I asked him not to tell you, Raz."  
  
"Raz understands, and will be having to have a word with that Bosmer soon enough," Raz growled slightly. "An Elder Scroll... Only a fool of a Khajiit tries to steal something like that! And becoming a Werewolf to boot? Does he have no shame!"  
  
"Well, he's dead now," Argo scoffed. "Pretty sure I saw Silica kill him moments before everything went up in smoke."  
  
"Well, I'll say that while I don't approve of you apparently not telling either of us about this," Naryu shook her head, "I can understand the feelings, at any rate. I can't believe I never noticed during all the times I checked in on you. Urgh, that's what I get for sticking to the shadows, I suppose."  
  
"Raz agrees with Naryu," Raz says. "He should have noticed something was amiss with you three sooner."  
  
"So, as much as I hate to say it, have you asked anyone in the Brotherhood if she's still alive?" Naryu asks.  
  
"Something along those lines, yeah," Argo nodded.  
  
"Annnd??" Raz pressed.  
  
"And The local chapter of the Brotherhood is going through some rough times right now. I dunno if you've heard or not but someone's been killing Brotherhood members?" Argo asked.  
  
"I'd heard some rumors, yeah," Naryu nodded.  
  
"Raz has not, but please, do continue." Raz shrugged.  
  
"Anyways, I was told my request for info would be put through once all of the dust had settled and we'd finished the karmic bit of fate that had been set in motion well before I even joined." She scoffed. "Seems like that always happens with me. I show up, and put right what was about to go horribly wrong... except for when it really matters to me on a personal level. Because no, then the Divines and the Daedra both seem fit to throw me to the curb."  
  
"That is how life goes, yes?" Raz laughed, but it was a hollow laugh. "People like us three, always getting caught up in the debates of the world at the expenses of our own lives."  
  
"Speaking of the debates of the world," Naryu sighed. "We should get to Anvil and figure out or next moves."  


* * *

  
  
"CHOOSE, GIRL! CHOOSE!!" Several hours later, a mad Dunmer woman claiming to see the future forced a hero to choose whether those slated for death would live or die.  
  
"Before I do," Argo looked to Raz and Naryu. "I'd like to ask you a question about the future."  
  
"You--! What...?" The insane woman blinked. "You wish to... use my powers before choosing my fate!?"  
  
"No, I need to ask you question that leans on this decision," Argo said, pulling out that dread blade of the brotherhood, the Blade of Woe. Naryu bit back a curse. "See, I need to know... if I let you live, or if I kill you here and now- I personally don't care about any of these people on the floor. If they'll cause as much trouble as you say, maybe it's better that they die? Who am I to judge. I've killed so many people all in the name of getting my soul back... then killing again and again just because they were in my way or trying to kill me first. I'm a werewolf after all... so what's stopping me from turning on you after you give these people the cure and killing you?" She leaned forwards, pointing the blade of woe at the woman's throat, and said, "I have but one question. Which choice heads me towards the future where I find my sister?"  
  
"...I don't need to be psychic to tell me that lying to you to let me live is a bad idea." The woman answered. "But that is the truth. Let me live, and you'll find her. Kill me? You'll never find her. I suppose you'll just have to guess on whether or not I'm telling the truth on that. However, do know that you finding her is just as bad as leaving these people live. The world will burn. Her daughter will see to that."  
  
"Naryu?" Argo voiced.  
  
"Yeah?" Naryu answered.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"I... think she's probably telling the truth. Doesn't mean she deserves to live, though."  
  
"Raz?"  
  
"This one thinks she's most likely lying to save her own skin... but even so, there is a possibility that you will find what you're looking for either way."  
  
"Then, combined with whether or not these three lives are spared..." Argo closed her eyes, and then said... "I say, let the world burn. If you want these people dead, perform the Black Sacrament. Otherwise? Don't get in my way. ...But something tells me you and your people aren't the type to perform the dread ritual, and like getting your hands dirty." Her eyes burned with fire. "The Gold Coast has seen so much death already... let's leave a few lives to shine, shall we? So For Now, I'll let you Live. But keep this in mind..." She dismissed the Blade of Woe. "Next time I see you? Whatever it is you're doing? You won't know what's happening before you find yourself bleeding out, psychic or not."  
  
And with that, Argo turned and stormed out of the cabin.  


* * *

  
  
"You know..." Naryu mused as she chased after Argo. "You're quite wordy for an assassin."  
  
"So are you," Argo scoffed.  
  
"If it were just for those people, I'd be mad that you let her live. You're right that you had no personal connection to those people." Naryu said. "But... for that girl? For 'Family'? It doesn't quite sting as much, somehow." She paused, then, laughing, "You still could have just killed her after taking the antidote from her, though."  
  
"Didn't want to. Already told her I could, and if she's really psychic, well..." Argo sighed. "She'd figure that any world where I do that leads to the conclusion where I don't find Silica and include that in her 'I die' math."  
  
"Do you really believe her?" Naryu asked.  
  
"Ask me again once I have a one on one with either: The Listener, the Nightmother, or Sithis himself." Argo's reply was dark, cold, and altogether too snappy for Naryu's liking.  
  
"Next time I drop in to check on you, I will," Naryu answered.  
  
"Thanks," Argo said once she reached her horse, and un bound it from the tree she'd tied it to. "I'll be seeing you then, I guess."  
  
"Until Next Time," Naryu nodded.  


* * *

  
  
"You know, the Queen will not be happy to learn that you've turned to assasinry and banditry," Razum-Dar remarked as Argo entered the Enchantment shop. "This one will... keep that tidbit to himself for the time being."  
  
"Thanks, Raz," Argo said, then sat down to watch their bosmeri companion pack. "What about her? Any idea what to do about little mis 'future traitor'?"  
  
"I resent that," the girl muttered.  
  
"Raz will be keeping a close eye on her," Raz replied. "If she comes close to betraying the Queen, this one will be ready for it. Perhaps he will call upon a dear friend for back up, yes?" There was a dark tone to his words that chilled the room. He was making it very clear that if, as the mad woman claimed, the Bosmeri girl would betray the Queen, then he would ensure that she would regret it.  
  
"Just be sure to mention my name if you get my Mother instead," Argo smirked, her tone dry with dark humor, "she'll pass it along to me somehow."  
  
"Razum-dar will keep that in mind," Raz replied, voice equally dark, before turning to an uplifted tone. "Now then, tell Razum-dar what you were doing when you met miss Naryu! This one suspects it is a wild and extravagant tale!"  
  
"Raz, there isn't enough alcohol in Tamriel for that story," Argo shook her head. "Not unless you want to talk about zombies."  
  
"Errr... Raz will pass on that one, thank you very much."  
  
"That's what I thought."


	2. Orsinium's Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Betrayal that brought on a Rage, leaving a Bloody mark on History's Pages.

 

* * *

  
"Kurog will die this day."  Argo swore as she changed out of her thieves guild leathers for a larger set of robes in her bag. "I will Silence this Madness once and for all."  
  
The Orcish woman who had pulled her out into this room looked on in confusion and a slight state of awe at the deep black and shining blue robes- framed with a rib like golden fray.  
  
What was most surprising was the solid round panel with a black hand painted onto it.  
  
Just what kind of person had the King betrayed?  
  


* * *

  
  
The Shield Wives faltered as the robed woman strolled into the Throne Room. There was the aura of certain death about this woman- the Outsider their King had told them to kill should she appear.  
  
That was when they saw the Black Hand over the heart, mere moments before the Silencer aimed her Restoration staff at them, and the fight begun.  
  
They knew they were doomed, though they fought valiantly. And so their souls were sent to Sithis.  
  


* * *

  
  
The Priestess gave off her dying breaths in the arms of her fellow Priest- and that was when the Soldier who had given the command saw the SHADOW move like lightning.  
  
"Don't let the traitor get past you!" She ordered, and ran up the stairs. A Fight broke out moments later, and ended just as quickly. The Soldier came to a dead end on the stairs of the Temple's roof- and she turned to see the Specter of Death itself approaching with a Mighty Vengeance.  
  
"W-Wait! Don't kill me!"  
  
"What is Kurog's plan?" The Specter's Demand was simple, and her information was freely given in hopes of survival.  
  
Those hopes were dashed with an Ebony Blade of Woe to the heart.  
  
Neither Trinimac or Malacath would ever see the Soldier's Soul.  
  


* * *

  
The Archer felt chills as she tried to work past the fact that her friend wore the robes of the Dark Brotherhood. Silently, determinedly, they worked through the bookshelves of the Temple Library in hopes of figuring out the puzzle that would let them get to the Moot before it was too late.  
  
The only sign of surprise was when Argo found something on a shelf- a simple sheet of paper that to the Archer's Eyes was blank- but regardless, it gave the woman enough shock to gasp in surprise.  
  
"What is it?" The Archer asked of her friend.  
  
"Sometimes, I can see things others cannot. Books written by spirits, or letters written by those lost in another world..." Her friend tapped the letter. "I Suppose this appears blank, to you?"  
  
"It does," The Archer nodded.  
  
"Then I know he's alive, somehow, somewhere..." She breathed out, "Now I have more hope for my sister."  
  
The Puzzle was unlocked shortly after that, and then, they charged into the Moot.  
  
The Archer watched as her friend drove through whole hordes of Trinimac Soldiers- like a blade of death emerging in the form of a Restoration Staff. It was ironic- was it not- that death would come from she who held a symbol of life? The large robes seemed to do little to hinder Argo's Movements, as she flowed like a river- bending and slaying with a determined and scarry look within her eyes.  
  
And then they came to the final gate that bared them away. Bazrag began lifting it, and their friend began to mutter.  
  
"First the Mother, then the Son. So begins a contract bound in blood."  
  
It was a creepy sentiment, but what else was to be expected from such an assassin?  
  
The gate was barely half way open when Argo dove beneath with an ease that seemed impossible with that skirt that hid the feet themselves.  
  
"KUROG!" Her voice overpowered the King, and all eyes turned to stare at her. The Chiefs that knew of the woman all stared as this person- this force of nature that had aided all of them in the past weeks- was turned on those who had brought her here to Orsinium.  
  
"Y-You!!" The Forge Mother cried out. "You traitor! You dare inter-!?"  
  
"SHUT. UP." The Silencer's voice boomed. "Just shut up you damned Hag. I trusted you and Kurog... but you betrayed me. You have no idea what a mistake that was." She glared at him, and his mother, and for centuries to come, The Orc Chiefs would speak of Sithis born mortal into the world. "You used me for your own gain, and you used the God you claimed to worship as a tool. You killed the Priestess who believed so firmly in you..." She pointed her restoration staff at the glowing shield the Forge Mother cast. "Consider your Lives Forfeit, and the Sacrament Performed in her name." And then the gate was opened enough by Bazrag's strength.  
  
"Quickly," the Archer called to the Chiefs, "through here!"  
  
"NO! ARCHERS!!!" Kurog roared. "SOLDIERS! STOP THEM ALL!"  
  
The Arrows never came, and the Chiefs were spared, even as Soldiers hesitantly came through their own gates. Kurog looked, and he SAW. He saw that they were gone. He saw that they had fled.  
  
"She is a fool!" The Forge Mother said, barely spooked by this. "To worship Sithis! Trinimac's true believers will END HER!"  
  
The Soldiers clearly held no such faith, for the moment that they drew their weapons, SHE was upon them like Death Incarnate.  
  
An Ebony Blade emerged, and slashed across any exposed skin, though it should not have killed all those it touched, it did.  
  
Within moments, those who had not died *Ran*, and they *CRIED* as they ran.  
  
The Chiefs were evacuated, and soon, all that remained in the Moot Arena was the Silencer herself.  
  
"We will have to kill the traitors, the cowards, after we deal with her." The Forge Mother declared.  
  
King Kurog held no such faith, even as they descended into the arena.  
  
The Chiefs of Orsinium stared, and watched.  
  
She drew not the Blade, but fought with her staff, and her words. "Mother, Sweet Mother," She less spoke and more sang as the fight began. "I send unto you a Mother who rules with an Iron Thumb!" The Forge Mother cast fire and flames, but neither dealt damage as the Silencer drained her life with a focus- a dedication and a determination that re-soundly reflected all blows from the King's Greatsword. "She who bears false witness to Trinimac, and will soon feed the rats with her body's CRUMBS!"  
  
And then the Forge Mother was Slain.  
  
"MOTHER! NO!" King Kurog mourned, and the Silencer stood, waiting, watching.  
  
Death, it would be said, allowed a son to grieve before he would be slain.  
  
As King Kurog turned on the Silencer with death, and strange magics in his eyes, it was said that the Silencer returned it with a gaze as flat as a mirror.  
  
For every blow King Kurog threw at her- she deflected. For every chain sent to grab and to pull, it was returned with a force of a hurricane.  
  
And so the Silencer intoned, "Mother, Sweet Mother, I send unto you a Son who was twisted by greed and by rage." She withdrew a blade that Bazrag had seen before- a weapon that Kurog had used against another Clan's Chief, and then had given to the woman as a 'reward' for aiding him. A weapon that Bazrag had seen her reluctantly accept, with the look of someone who planned revenge. "He whose frozen heart shall be shattered by a blade of ice, mourn not for the blood that stains this book's page."  
  
And then he was finished with a blow to the chest- an exact mirror of that which he himself had delivered not long ago. The look of horror- of understanding- the retribution he had wrought upon himself.  
  
It would be said that Death then took that foul blade, broke it over her knee,  and threw the pieces aside, never to be used again.  
  
None heard her whisper, "It is done."


	3. Fooled around in Minotaur Country

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Silencer sees an interesting sight, and decides to bring a Minotaur to the party.

No less than three times over the last hour had she passed by this spot to see the same strange sight in the exact same place.

Either there was some kinky role playing going on, or there was an Argonian Slaver trying to hustle a naked, blindfolded and hands bound Bosmeri girl through the planes leading from Anvil past the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. Crouched, hidden in the rocks above, sat a Breton woman by the name of Argo. Known to many as the Rat, and to a few select others as Silencer, the Nightblade assassin observed the scene.

The Argonian stood close to the Bosmeri girl- too close, by Argo’s standards- and seemed comfortable with the white Senche tiger that was lying down on the ground nearby- A pet? The Girl fidgeted in her bindings, and glanced around to no avail due to her blindfold. Though Argo was too far away to hear any conversation, it didn’t look like they were talking anyways.

Deciding that, if this really was something dangerous, there was too great of a danger of the Argonian killing the girl if Argo were to attack directly. If she were to interrupt this and it was something truly illicit, then the girl might have a chance to escape… if it were just the extremely kinky role play, then, well, they would regroup afterwards and they would probably get a good laugh out of the situation.

And so… Argo looked around, and spotted her opportunity almost too easily.

Minotaurs roamed all over the Gold Coast, and the ones wielding swords tended to charge into battle like, well… like bulls. Unlimbering her staff from her back, Argo glanced down at the Argonian, who seemed unaware of the Minotaur stalking around behind him.

A moment’s consideration, and Argo threw a lightning bolt at the Minotaur.

Her aim had been a bit off, angle wise, she noted as the Minotaur came rushing towards, and then  past the Argonian and the Bosmeri girl.

“What in the-?” The Argonian hissed and drew his bow and some arrows, ready to fight.

While Argo and the Argonian fought the Minotaur, the Bomseri girl stood stock still- or so it seemed. Argo glanced aside at one point and saw her quickly working through the hand restraints. And sure enough, as soon as the Minotaur was falling, and the Argonian’s back was turned, the Bosmeri girl tore free of her restraints, removed her blind fold and ran for a nearby horse that had wandered onto the field, clearly wondering what all the commotion was about. Strangely, the Senche tiger went after her without a single moment of hesitation.

The girl commandeered the Horse, and took off, and by the time the Argonian realized what was happening, gave a frustrated yell, and took off after her on foot towards a set of Ayleid ruins.

Argo stood there for a moment, wondering if she should continue to interfere, or just let it be…. But as things stood, Argo suspected the probable percentage of it all being a rather kinky role play scenario was rising steadily, given how easily the girl had gotten out of the bonds….

Either way, maybe it would teach someone a lesson about conducting their private business in a field of Minotaurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw the aforementioned scene of Argonian with naked Bosmeri girl (Both Players and not NPCs) hanging out in the field between the Gold Coast Wayshrine and the DB Sanctuary…I decided to drop a Minotaur on them, just to see what happened.
> 
> The above is an accurate retelling- sans the Argonian speaking- save the fact that I did follow them and saw that they just went right back to it inside the Aylied ruin where no Minotaurs could reach them. :P
> 
> So yeah… pretty sure it was just a kinky role play thing. Hah. Still, they shouldn’t have been doing that out in a field where Minotaurs spawned. WTF are you even thinking to do something like that there?? It’s like they were just begging someone to drop a Minotaur on them! 0_o;


	4. A Guard's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Guard catches a Thief.

As far as Kurral believed, for your average Nord, there was no better job than being a town guard. You got the occasional bit of action- such as getting to catch thieves, or killing some axe murderers- and all the respect that came from the title of “Guard.” And, if you got a regular job serving at the local Tavern, well, the drinks were just the tiniest bit cheaper than they were otherwise!

Shor’s Stone was a nice town, he believed, semi-recent troubles with the Reachmen aside. Heroes came, and Heroes went- the Companions even came by for a visit every now and then. But what Kurral liked most about his job was the opportunities to meet new people- often times very pretty ones- and just sort of….

A glint of gold in the corner of his eye cause his thoughts to trail off as the most beautiful vision of thievery entered his line of sight. A dame with blonde hair pulled back in what the barbershop was calling the “Heroic Bard” style, and clothing was that fancy, half-heavy half-light style coming out of the Gold Coast in recent months. Manotaurus or something strangely named like that. It was the one that had the oh so many belts strapping across in various ways and…

Oh how Kurral’s heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of amber eyes sneaking towards someone’s waist-purse.

He didn’t care that she was a common criminal attempting to pickpocket someone of their hard earned valuables. No siree. That he was about to interrupt a crime in progress never even crossed Kurral’s mind.

“Hey! You!” He took  several steps forwards as he spoke, breathless, in the awe of such beauty.

“Oh, crap…” The girl barely muttered as she stood upright, hands going up in surrender. He saw her hands and arms well- black gloves going from the elbow to the gingers, wrapped in white guards with bronze studs- each one shimmering like diamonds to his eyes.

“Where have you been all my life!” Kurral spoke, grinning at her through his open-faced helmet. “Say, would you like to come get a drink with me?” The fear that had only just barely formed in her eyes suddenly shifted into pure confusion and then shock and horror. Her breathing hitched, and he saw her barely exposed stomach muscles tense under her skin. For several moments, she just stood there in confusion before handing him a small stack of coins– That she might have had a bounty didn’t even occur to him– and he laughed saying, “A girl buying me a drink, eh? that’s– …Oh. Oh, right… I’m on duty.” He sighed, and hung his head as he turned to sulk back to his waiting spot. “Can’t drink on duty. Maybe afterwards?” She held no response as he finally hit his wall and slumped against it.

A Khajiiti woman in brown leathers appeared a few moments later, and it was at her side that the girl left, both running away in what was almost certainly an attempt to hold their laughter in at his failed attempt at flirting. Even so- the waist coat flared out as she moved in just such a way that… well…

Kurral sighed. He wondered if maybe it was his cologne? The “Essence of Magicka” stuff did come on pretty strong… And this was the fourth time since he started using it that he’d let a beautiful person out of his grasp because he was still on duty. But then again, it was the fourth time *ever* that he’d seen someone worth pursuing since he started using it…. so maybe…?

The mere idea of the fact that it was him being a guard causing these people to run away from him wouldn’t occur to him until he made the connection that the seventh person he tried this with was one he caught with a knife in the back of a local fisher.

At which point, he’d realize that every single person he’d tried flirting with had been ones he’d caught in the process of committing a crime, and would resoundingly lament, “Damn it, Mara and Dibella! Why are all the Criminals Criminally Beautiful!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a thing that actually happened while playing today. ._.; minor thieves' guild spoilers.


	5. A Thieves' Mortification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which A Rat and a Cat converse.

“I- What- He caught me pick-pocketing- but he was FLIRTING with me instead!??” Argo asked of her Khajiti fence/Thieves Guild contact as they hurriedly escaped Shor’s Stone. “I don’t even know how to respond to something like that!”

“Do not fight it,” Pirharri said, laughing, “This one can see the magic between you!”

“Oh Gods, No…!” Argo hung her head and groaned in dismay. “Please don’t joke about that, Pirharri!”

“Oh, no, everyone in the Guild will hear about this one for sure!”

“Noooo… Please, don’t! I’ll never hear the end of it from Quen if you do!”

Pirharri just laughed more and more- not even bothering to poke fun at the thief trying to do basic pick-pocketing in a dark room while wearing bright, shiny, reflective clothing. Yes, her friend’s mortification at being caught by a flirtatious Guard was enough punishment as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Follow up to the last chapter. ._.; Conversation based on a real one I had in guild chat afterwards.


	6. Hildegard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An outside perspective on the Silencer's actions.

Your name is Hildegard, although sometimes it’s hard to remember that.

You’ve spent so long in this forest, so long it’s hard to keep track of the days. One just blurs into the next as you scavenge for food and water. Most days you just work on auto pilot, letting the wolf decide what you do. You’re feral, though the word doesn’t come to mind.

Then, come the days when you’re forced to remember. When the transformation ends and you’re left just a girl in the forest, unarmed, unarmored, unclothed. Those are the days you spend hidden away in your cave, curled up under the few animal hides you’ve managed to carve off of one of your hunts. Those are the days you try to regain some control over your throat, to remember how to write, how to be human. That comes with the regret. The pain that you caused your family- your pack- from your lack of control.

You scratch out stories in the walls- tales of a silver wolf who could do good in the world with her transformation. How she had an amulet that would let her talk no matter the form she had, so that she would always be understood. It is all a wish, a fable, a tale, yes, but they’re what you wish to be one day. What you wish to be versus what you are.

A child who cannot control what power she has.

And then you’re the wolf again, without provocation, and you’re wild and free once more. You forget.

You forget, and you hunt.

You come across a man one day, a man who is not scared of you. He sees you, prowling, and instead of trying to kill you he sees something worth saving.

When you’re the wolf, you’re never sure of what you’re doing. When you come to as a human once more, you’re small in his arms, and he’s bleeding from the face- where you must have clawed him. But he doesn’t mind, he’s smiling and he’s simply THERE, telling you that everything will be alright.

Kor is your brother, you soon decide. He is your protector, your guardian. When you lose control, he’s there to pull you back from the brink- from the edge of losing who you are inside yourself to the pull of the wolf. It’s all still there, and it’s hard to keep control when you don’t have an outlet for those animal urges and instincts anymore.

But that, Somehow, is solved when you’re both recruited into the Dark Brotherhood, and your hunter’s instincts are allowed to flourish on the hunt. When you’re allowed to hunt down those marked for death, and take them to the void without regret.

You trade one cage for another, however. The days when you lose control and turn into the wolf, you lock yourself away into a room in the sanctuary. You cower in a corner and wait for the transformation to wear of so you’re not in danger of hurting anyone. Kor tries his best during those times, but like when you were wild, and you had to protect your human self from others, you hide away and force your mind to keep itself stable.

Somedays, you’re able to force a transformation back. Others, you’re stuck with stories running through your head. Stories that you eagerly write down once you’ve turned back to ‘normal.’

Normal? Is that really the word for a werewolf that can’t control her changes? Is that the word for an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood?

The other members of the Family try to make you feel welcome, but you always feel a sense of… tension? Wariness?? What is the word? You’re not sure. Regardless, you’re never quite sure that you belong. That they’re not just tolerating you for your skills, or Kor’s for that matter.

New people come, and new people go. Assassins have started dying recently. You’re afraid, cautious. Concerned. It’s enough to loose your control, and you lock yourself away. Kor tries to get you to come to the cage door, to meet one of your new brothers or sisters in the family. You don’t, though. You don’t want to meet someone new.

As they start to come into scent range, you retreat to the other end of the cage. You don’t want to learn their scent…. But you catch a whiff anyways, and you smell… something familiar. Something wolfish. You eye the newcomer, a woman, tall, muscular- but wired in a way that’s familiar. You see something in her eyes. The wolf can’t identify it. You aren’t sure if she’s a werewolf or not, either.

Every time she comes by the cage, you hide away. You don’t want to  make friends with her. But she comes by anyways, tries to talk with you some times, says nothing others, just waiting for you to make the first move. She’s a werewolf too, she says. You don’t want to forge a connection because of that.

Kor tells you about the new blade as she completes contracts- she’s making a name for herself, this girl. Then comes the moment when you finally met her face to face as a human. You and Kor are talking with the Matron, and the girl approaches from the side. She stands there, silent, listening as Kor and the Matron talk. You stay silent as well, for the most part. You and the new blade observe each other.

She’s definitely a Lycanthrope. You can smell the blood and the wolf on her. You can SEE the control. Unlike you who holds your arms close and tries to make yourself small, she stands confident, power coiled within her muscles, ready to strike at any moment. She’s more of an assassin than you are, you think. You recognize her face, she’s some champion of the Aldmeri Dominion who lead an assault against Coldharbour. You saw the newspaper in a thieves den once. She’s a trained killer through and through. She belongs here, not you. But the look in her eyes as she regards you is… Pity? Remorse? It’s definitely one of the sadder emotions but you just aren’t sure what it is.

Neither of you directly speak a word. You hide yourself away somewhere high up, and watch as the new blade tries her best to try and find you before she heads out on contract.

A contract where she and Kor save one of your brothers from certain death.

You’re frightened, scared, and you run away after listening to someone you shouldn’t have. You hide in the forests where you once roamed wild and free, and you can’t find your cave. Is it gone now?  Are you even in the right place? You roam as the wolf, but you don’t find anything at all…

Then you hear a wolf howling and the sounds of battle. You RUN… And then Kor finds YOU, gets you to calm down and turn back. The new blade isn’t too far behind, readjusting her clothes as if having just turned back.

She did, of course.  As she and Kor convince you to come back to the Gold Coast via cart, you and her talk. She tells you of how they tracked you down,  how she killed the hunters that had been sent after you- how she went wolf on their leader for a finishing touch of irony. The ride back gives you time to think, time to realize that even someone you avoided, and wanted nothing to do with, still risked her life to help save you.

You are wanted.

The days go on, contracts are filled, and while you still feel like you might lapse in control eventually, you start to think that you might maybe now have a Sister along with your Brother- different from your brothers and sisters in the sanctuary. You are Hildegarde. You have a family. And for the first time, you feel as if you’re getting a firm grasp of control in your life.

And then Mirabelle is killed by the Black Dragon and, and— everything falls apart.

And yet, she is there to pick up the pieces.

Somehow, it is this new blade this new girl this werewolf who saved you, this one person who keeps everything from falling apart.

In the final fight against the enemy who spawned this accursed chain of revenge and death- you’re stopped in time so often that it seems like the girl and the priest are teleporting across the room… She fights as a wolf- and when the damned priest finally goes down… she returns to human form to finish him.

Control.

She has had so much control… and yet as she accepts the title of Silencer, you can see her hesitate for the first time.

A resigned look, a sigh, you could particularly equate it with “This, again?” Exasperation- how many ceremonies had she been through to become this desensitized to this kind of thing?

Several Weeks Later, the Silencer announces her departure for Orsinium… And…You want to go with her. You do. You want to see how she operates, how she works. You try to convince the Matron, you try to convince Kor, you try to convince the Silencer…

In the end, you stay at the Sanctuary.

It was probably for the best, given that no less than a month later, you all recieve word of the Silencer slaying King Kurog, thus stopping his insane attempt at killing all of Orsinium’s Clan Chiefs.

The Speaker is annoyed in that subtle way even he cannot quite hide behind his cool demeanor. Such a messy and public execution… He and the Matron speak with the Silencer upon her return, and you can’t help but to sneak up the hallway and listen into their conversation.

“Slaying the KING of Orsinium in full attire??” The Matron asks, enraged. “Have you gone mad!?”

“No, he was the mad one,” The Silencer counters. “Besides that, he and his mother tried to puppet me into killing my allies. Sithis’ will prevented that, however… and I showed them the error of their ways.” She is calm, collected, even despite everything.

She has _Control_ over the situation.

“And you chose to wear the robes of the Silencer, rather than those of a normal assassin?” The Speaker asks.

“To show how grave of a mistake they had made.” The Silencer answers. “And to… normalize our presence, in the eyes of the Orcs.” Silence falls between the three of them, so she explains. “When Trinimac’s worshipers went insane and prepared to slaughter everyone who was not one of them, who saved them? Not Malacath, but Sithis. The Dread Father sent his Child to send the Mad King back to the void where he belongs. Those who faced my blade, and lived? They will forever remember that they live because I let them escape… and will forever be looking behind their backs at the shadows chasing them, fearing that one day, it will be my blade that digs itself into their backside.” She shifts, and places something onto the table in two large chunks. You peer out around the door frame and see the bloodied remains of a sword, broken in twain. “They will forever know that Sithis and the Night Mother repay all of their karmic debts.”

You have no idea what the sword is meant to represent, but you see it, and you see the looks on the Matron and the Speaker’s faces. Shock, awe… fear, and also respect.

“And speaking of debts,” The Speaker coughs. “The Listener has requested that you speak to them in person. The information you seek has been found.”

“Where, and when?” The Silencer asks.

“They said you would understand this riddle,” The Speaker shakes his head, “‘Meet at the Place where Scrolls Fell, and Dragons Ascend to meet the next full moons.”

“I see…. Skuldafn,” The Silencer laughs, just a little. “Of course it would be there.”

And so she turns to leave, and you hide in the shadows as quickly as you can.

The Silencer pauses as she steps out of the room, eyes glancing over at where you’re hiding… She sniffs, and of course she could smell you. She says nothing, then heads down the hallways towards the dining room and kitchen… You follow.

It is once you’re in the room, and you find Kor standing over a cooking pot, sniffing at the stew that Remains-Silent is cooking up, that the Silencer speaks.

“Kor, look who I found sneaking around outside my meeting with the Speaker and Matron.”

“Oh?” He turns, looks and, confused. “Hilde?? What were you doing over there??”

“I…” You admit that you were curious. “I just wanted to find out what happened in Orsinium.”

“Ah…” Kor nodded slightly, glancing at the Silencer. “So what did happen out there, Argo?”

“I’d rather not retell it again right now,” She answers.

“Ah… well… that’s understandable,” Kor then motions to the pot of stew. “Remains-Silent’s making dinner!” A wonderful change of subject, Brother.

“It smells delicious!” you say, smiling.

“Agreed,” The Silencer nods. “It smells wonderful.” She says to the Argonian, who, true to her name, remains silent. “I think I’ll stay, then. It’s been a while since I’ve had a home cooked meal.”

Soon enough, the Argonian woman pours out the stew into four bowls, and you all dig in. You intentionally eat slower than the others, observing them as they eat. Kor is fast, but messy. Remains-Silent is slow, careful, and yet somehow eats more in refills in the same time the rest of you are on your first bowl. The Silencer eats fast- but seems to be forcing herself to slow down.

“So what’s at Skuldafn?” You finally work up the nerve to ask once you’re half-way through your bowl.

If death could be delivered by a sentence, you’re sure you would have almost caused the Silencer to choke on her stew with those words.

“Skuldafn?!” Kor asks, surprised. “You mean that big huge Ancient Nordic Temple up in Eastmarch?”

“That’d… that’d be the one,” The Silencer nods. “The Listener has agreed to meet me there during the rise of the full moons, next week.”

“Wow, that’s…” Kor trails off, looking astonished. Even Remains-Silent seems surprised by that declaration. “The Listener? Really?? That’s quite the accomplishment! I don’t think I’ve ever heard of her stepping out of the Nightmother’s Crypt in the last few years!”

“Why Skuldafn, though?” You ask, and the Silencer gets an uncomfortable look on her face as she sets her spoon down into the last dregs of her stew.

“A dear friend of mine disappeared from there in a mysterious accident. I’ve been hoping that maybe Sithis could tell me somehow that they’re alive or dead.” The Silencer answers.

“That’s a lot to ask of the Dread Father,” Kor muses. “Must be some friend.”

“Like a sister to me, really,” she laughs, bitterly, and you can hear the irony in that statement even as she stands up, and gives a bow to Remains-Silent. “Thanks for the stew. It was wonderful.” Remains-Silent, true to her name, remains silent, but nods just the same.

Kor doesn’t go to stop her as she leaves, nor does he try to stop you as  you follow the Silencer one more.

“What was she like?” You ask.

“Too eager to prove herself grown up,” The Silencer answers, tiredly. “Fast with a blade, though. Put two in her hands and she’d cut through her enemies like they were nothing.”

“What was her name?”

“Glass.” It comes quick, and smells like a lie.

“Glass?? Who names their kid ‘glass’?”

“A Khajiit.” You’re fairly certain she’s making this up now just to get you to back off.

“Can I come with you to Skuldafn?”

“No!” She turns around sharply then- stopping in her stubborn march forwards towards the Sanctuary’s entrance. You look into her eyes, and you see… fear. Loss, pain, but mostly fear.

There is no sign of control on her face at all.

“Don’t…” She says. “Don’t. Just…. Don’t. It’s not safe there.”

“Why?” You ask.

“Because–” Because why? You remind her too much of the friend she lost? “Because I’m not your guardian. Kor is.” And with that, she turned to leave.  
  
You had one trump card, though.

“It’s because I remind you of her, isn’t it?”

She stopped.

“You’re a werewolf too… so was she? Is that why…?” You trail off as she turns around and looks at you, sadness in her eyes, tears brimming and…

“…Ask me again when I find out if she’s alive or not, okay?”

And then she disappears into a cloud of shadow and is gone before you can even formulate a response. After a few moments, you nod, then turn back towards the kitchen, thinking.

She had no control when her friend… her sister?… was lost. You’ll let her have it on this. She may be the Silencer now, but… Argo was someone you'd considered a sister first and foremost.

You decide for certain now… Regardless of what fate befell Argo’s friend/sibling, you’ll… you’ll try to be the best sister you can be.


	7. The Misplaced Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Time, Another Place, Another Blade cast into the Dark.

There was blackness, and then… Suddenly, light as the world burped- or at least that was the sound that her ears heard as she suddenly exploded out of a black, murky pool of water- gasping for breath and floundering for dry land.

The thick, jungle foliage of Skyrim towered above and around her as she wiped the water out of her eyes and began searching for dry ground- which really wasn’t too far away. In fact, as she pulled herself to dry ground, the girl wondered how deep the small pond could have even been to begin with… But to that, she suspected she already knew the answer.

It was barely a swim- and it felt like the ground came up rather quickly beneath her. A few moments later, she took a few calming breaths, and took a good look around the immediate area. Nearby was a tree with… with a body pinned to it by a multitude of arrows. Though the clothes were different, she still recognized a Black Hand on the chest of the robes.

Dark Brotherhood.

With a stilling breath, she looked towards what was almost certainly the Black Door- though broken inwards and hanging on the hinges, it was still an imposing sight. Even more so with black smoke wafting out of the tunnel leading deeper underground.

Hildegard shook her head, and then, bracing herself, went inside.

She’d barely made it into the front chamber of the fire bombed Nordic Ruins when a long, curved sword suddenly flew out from around a corner and aimed to cut her head from her neck. Only her werewolf instinct and years of training gave her the reaction time needed to step backwards so that the sword ran itself into the stone work rather than her flesh.

“What the–?” The owner of the sword- A tall, Redguard man wearing black and red robes- froze at the sight of her, partially stunned by the rock in the wall, along with the robes she wore. “…Who are you, what are you doing here, and why are you soaking wet?” he asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“That… is a long story.” Hildegard mused. “I would be glad to tell it, if I really am where I think I am.”

“Nrgh!” the man finally freed his sword and, while not pointing it at her directly, held in in a ready stance. He seemed suspicious of her arrival, and with good reason. “And just where would that be?”

“Hopefully, Skyrim, Fourth Era? Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in Falkreath?” She sounded unsure as if that was where she actually was.

“That’s about the most of it… why are you asking?” the Redguard frowned.

“As I said, it’s a long story,” Hildegard smiled, and offered a free hand along with her name, “I’m Hildegard.”

“Nazir.” The man answered, not taking up the invitation. “And I think we’ve got time before the people who burned this place come back to check for survivors. So talk. Fast. And it’d better be the truth. I’m tired of liars and cheaters.”

And so Hildegard spoke.

* * *

 

The truth of the matter was that it took several conversations with the Matron well before any of this happened- one of which ended on “I’ll look for contracts that require the body disappear entirely.” She hadn’t even planned on Skyrim being her first out-of-the-Gold Coast Contract, but, here it was before HIldegard’s very eyes.

“Contract: Jorun’s Stand.” The title on the page read. “There’s a traitor in the Fighter’s Guild,” it continued on beneath, “This one oversaw them slipping a message to one of our enemies- but since they’re a high ranking officer, nobody will believe a lowly grunt such as this one. Eliminate them at once, and make sure they never find the body!”

It was perfect, Hildegard thought as she tore the magical sheet of paper out of the Book of those Marked for Death. And the fact that it was so close to Skuldafn was even better- though she wouldn’t mention that part to Kor… And speaking of…

“SKYRIM!?” He wasn’t taking her decision to go back to Skyrim- even for a contract- very well. “Why!?”

The excuse she’d had been crafting upon seeing the contract finally came to the forefront. That she wanted to go back to confront who she’d been with who she was now. It was partly true. Mostly. Maybe.

In the end, there was still that part of her that wanted to know what the Silencer- Argo- was up to. In the end, Kor talked to the Matron, and she allowed it… and in the end, together, she and her brother went to Jorun’s Stand.

Soon, they waited for the perfect opportunity to either sneak in or wait for their target to leave, Hildegard looked upwards at the nearby mountain. They were just outside the steps of the ruins of Skuldafn, and yet… so far away from the summit.

So close. And yet so far.

Her impatience and anger annoyed the wolf within her- and she transformed without warning, though Kor was used to it by now. At least she still had enough control over herself to keep from rushing into the fortress and getting herself killed. Even so, the Wolf was annoyed- what was the big deal? The Silencer wasn’t formally pack like Kor was- even if he wasn’t a Werewolf and she was. There was a huge difference. The Silencer had yet to prove herself to the Wolf to be accepted, and until then, any of these thoughts were foolish and a waste of time.

The wolf might very well have wrestled itself out of her control had their target not chosen that moment to emerge from the camp’s gates, drunkenly yelling to one of the guards that he was going to water the bushes.

“Well, we’ve got the funny way or the polite way-” Kor mused quietly. “Either we scare him to death before he finishes his business, or we wait until he does and then we pounce…”

As luck would have it, their target swaggered and stumbled his way towards the set of bushes and trees where Kor and Hildegard were hiding.

The wolf wanted to go for the terror option- and Hildegard agreed that it would be funnier.

Of course- that would be the moment when a little girl came running from somewhere in the darkened forest- crying out for help. “Please Sir! You have to help me! My mother’s run off and I can’t find her!” the girl cried as she approached the drunkard man.

“Oh for the love of-” Kor face palmed. “Who the hell is this girl?”

Hildegard’s nose twitched as she caught the scent of death wafting from the girl- death and blood. A combination that usually only came from vampires and assassins of the Brotherhood….

Had someone else from another Sanctuary gotten the same contract Hildegard had chosen?

It was very likely, for the girl began to tell a rather obviously exaggerated story that the drunkard target ate up like a chaurus pie.

“She- She had one of her terrible fits! She heard the howls of the wolves and thought she was one! She tore off her clothes and ran in there to frolick with them- but she forgot to eat any Canis Cap!! She’s sure to be eaten!! Or Worse: TAKEN BY A SURPRISE WEREWOLF!!” As the girl went on with her tale- one which made really no narrative sense at all once she went into the “Why” of the terrible fit- she silently began waving her hands at Kor and Hildegard with a set of hand signals that Kor recognized from his hunting days.

“‘Sneak up from behind, and strike’?” Kor frowned. “How does she know those signals?”

Hildegard would have rolled her eyes if the wolf hadn’t taken all of that as confirmation and permission to go ahead with the kill and begun silently stalking forwards.

This would be a story to tell for sure, Hildegard thought as she crept up behind the drunken man, who now was only distracted by the girl’s constant stream of crying gibberish.

“N-HIC-Now… girlie… I’m sure she’s fi-BUUUURP-finneee…” The man said. “There aint no werewolfies around in these partz…”

“B-b-b-but…” Then the young girl stopped crying and gave a feral grin that revealed a pair of sharp fangs. “There’s one behind you right now!”

Confused, the drunken traitor of the Fighters Guild turned around to look straight into Hildegard’s gleaming teeth.

“Hi, Dinner,” Hildegard wanted to joke at him, “I’m hungry.” Alas, all that came out was a large growl.

It still had the wonderful result of making the man piss his pants in terror as he let loose a flat, wet sounding wail from the back of his throat. It was the last sound he would ever make as Hildegard lunged in that moment and tore his throat out with her teeth.

* * *

 

"Hrmf,” Nazir scowled. “That sounds like something Babette would do, alright.” However, his sword lowered slightly. “But that doesn’t mean you’re really from another Sanctuary that’s miraculously survived all this time unknown to any of us.”

“I’m not done yet.” Hildegard scowled in return.

“Fine.” Nazir said. “Continue?”

* * *

 

Hildegard felt vindicated by the sight of the young child drinking the blood out of the freshly made corpse before it could spill out too much onto the ground and leave an obvious kill site.

She was definitely a Vampire- and Kor had really no idea what to make of the sight of them once the wolf had its fill of the man’s meat and let Hildegard take over again. Two girls- monsters of different types, yet sharing a common job, covered in the blood of a drunken traitor whom they’d just killed.

“Ahhh!” The girl exhaled in delight once she’;d finished draining the corpse. “Now that’s a pleasant buzz! Drunken Nords always have a bit of an after kick to them.”

“So… uh…” Kor scratched at the back of his head. “Are you Brotherhood?”

“Yup,” The girl then offered her best innocent, child-like smile. “Babette, of the Dawnstar Chapter.”

“There’s a Sanctuary in Dawnstar?” Kor asked, blinking. “I hadn’t heard of that one before.”

* * *

 

“Dawnstar!?” And just like that Nazir’s sword was raised and pointed straight at Hildegard’s throat. “Did Cicero put you up to this!?”

“No! Who’s Cicero?” Hildegard frowned.

“Nazir! Wait! Don’t kill her!”

At that, Nazir and Hildegard turned to look back at the entrance to the Sanctuary- where a haggard, tired, and yet still very much alive Babette stood, panting.

“Babette!” Nazir flashed a genuine smile at the girl. “You’re alive!”

“Of course I am!” the girl replied. “I was out hunting when I smelled the smoke…”

“Can I get back to my story now?” Hildegard asked.

“Why should I–?” Nazir turned back to her, only to be stopped from anything drastic by Babette.

“Please, let’s hear her out.” Babette said.

“Why?” Nazir pressed.

“Because I saw her climbing out of Shadowmere’s pool!”

Who was Shadowmere? Hildegard wondered, but decided not to ask. Instead, she resumed her story where she left off- Babette describing the Dawnstar sanctuary.

* * *

 

“It’s both new and old and not even yet made,” The vampire- Babette- answered. “Ancient Ruins make the best homes, but we’ve yet to fully christen it. The Listener wants it off the Map for the time being. A safe place that nobody knows about yet.”

“The Listener?” Hildegard’s eyes widened. “Do you know them?”

“She helped us through a rough patch personally, before she was the Listener,” Babette nodded. “We… had some really exciting times then. It’s quite the story. Full of death, and betrayal, and a dead bride at a Wedding… We even killed the…. Well, AN Emperor.” The girl’s correction was obvious because she gave a roll of her eyes. “Nobody even knows his name now. Although, there are reasons for that interesting little fact that I’m not allowed to say right now.” A pause, a sly smile, and a teasing, “Yet!” followed.

“Why’s that?” Hildegard asked.

“Shenanigans,” was Babette’s only answer before casting a spell that caused the mutilated corpse of their target to be wreathed in a massive illusion- visually turning the remains from human to deer.

Kor whistled. “Well that’s different!”

“Yes, well, his friends will come looking for him eventually,” Babette answered. “The Listener would rather they not find us hanging around when they do.” And with that she nodded to Hildegard, “Come on, wolf-girl! We’ve got much to talk about.”

Hildegard looked to Kor, who looked rather tired out by this whole endeavor. “Fine,” He relented. “I guess we’re in for a penny at this point.”

And so they followed Babette through the forest until they came to the strangest sight imaginable…

A tall, wooden box painted blue, and covered in strange words that made no sense at all.

Babette withdrew a key from beneath her shirt and unlocked the door of the box before beckoning them inside. It didn’t seem like the box should be able to hold much of anything inside, and yet…

Inside the doors of the small blue box was a massive room that seemed to have been plucked from a Dwemer ruin.

“What kind of magic is this?” Kor asked as they stepped inside.

“The best kind,” Babette grinned as she hopped onto a small bench and flicked at a lever. Immediately, the room jerked, and made the strangest keening noise for a few moments before stopping. “Dwemer!”

“I… kind of got that from the interior,” Kor admitted.

“C’mon! Outside we go!” Babette decided, and then lead them right back outside the way they’d come… except they were no longer inside the forests of Skyrim, but instead atop the walls of Skuldafn, overlooking the vast landscape below.

It was also now the middle of the day- despite that when they’d left mere moments ago, the moons had been rising into the sky.

“How…?” Kor stopped to scratch at his head, meanwhile Hildegard just followed Babette along the wall towards where four others were standing, overlooking the same view.

“LISTENER!” Babette called out, waving as one of the figures turned their heads to look over. “I brought the werewolf girl like you asked!”

“Werewolf girl?” One of the other figures turned- and Hildegard saw that it was Argo- the Silencer. “…What the- Hildegard?! What…?”

“The Pup has arrived. Good, good!” The first figure spoke in a calm, female voice as she took her hood down- revealing a head of hair that was shock white, and a skin tone of deep, shiny blue. The woman had green eyes of a bright, piercing hue that seemed ancient, and her face had black and silver tattoos drawn across its surface in intricate ways- subtly looking like that of a Dragon’s skull.

This…. There was no doubt in Hildegard’s mind that this was the Listener.

“Aventus, go fetch the other one,” The Listener said, “he seems to be caught off guard by the view.”

“Yes, ma’am,” The fourth figure said, bowing, and then walking over to the strange box- where Kor was now running circles around it trying to figure out how it had moved like it had.

“What’s the meaning of this?” The Silencer turned towards the Listener. “Why are they here?”

“I sent a contract to your sanctuary,” The Listener answered, “and as the Scrolls foretold, this young Pup would take it. I sent Babette to fetch her and her brother to come here so that we may discuss the future of This World.”

“You mean the future that you say Silica got sent to?” Argo asked. “The Future that you say I can’t go to so I can bring her home!?”

“Of course not,” The Listener shook her head, then looked at Hildegard, speaking words that she felt had already been spoken, but needed to be repeated just the same. “Though I come from that same future, it is a branch, caused by the division of one of two sisters being sent forwards, leaving the other behind. That future, caused by the choices made by the other, who never jumped forwards again. That is what the Scrolls show. To send you forwards… no, it would break things in ways you cannot fathom.”

“Damn the Elder Scrolls,” Argo growled- sounding very much like the werewolf she was. “They sent her to that future, and I want my Sister back!”

“And that you shall have,” The Listener turned back towards the Silencer and smiled- but it was a cold smile, bereft of warmth. “But not by your hands.” With a sigh, she turned again, putting her hands behind her back as she walked towards the summit of the complex. “Follow me. Babette, wait for Aventus to finish prying the Brother from the Tardis, then lead them after us.”

“Sure thing, Listener!” Babette said with a casual tone that spoke of the bonds of family between them.

And so they walked once more.

“In the long ago past, there was a Man named Miraak, and he was a Dragon Priest,” The Listener spoke as they walked. “I would Kill him in Aprocrypha- realm of Hermaus Mora, by the Daedric Prince’s will. As Listener of the Brotherhood, I was no stranger to such a contract at the time.” They passed by the burnt out remains of a cart. “Herma-Mora thought it put me into his Debt.” She pulled out a small, leather bound journal from her robes somewhere. “This is a notebook that Miraak had kept during his time in that realm that was very much outside the flow of regular time. I found it hidden on my possession- placed secretly by Miraak during our fight- I never mentioned its existence to anyone, not even to my own Journal, for fear Herma-Mora would discover it’s secrets. But it is in code, you see, and I could not understand it until years later, when I came into possession of a Seer who could read the Elder Scrolls… and who could translate this book as well. That was about when Herma-Mora came to collect on that Debt he thought I owed him, I managed to finagle something… More out of him through this Journal’s mere existence. Then, we both came to an understanding of what we must do.”

She pocketed the book again as they reached the steps that would take them up to the final place- the Portal at the top. But it was there that they stopped. For a few moments, nobody said anything- and distantly, a dragon’s roar could be heard elsewhere.

Hildegard was starting to wonder if this was even still the same year they’d been in when she’d stepped into that blue box.

“My Brother and I were in a similar situation to you and your sister’s, Silencer.” The Listener said, locking eyes with Argo. “One decision- one event- and the two of us went on two separate journeys- the same one, but in different worlds. In my world, it was the result of your departure for the future… and your arrival from the past… that caused our scope of vision to change. We suddenly realized that we were firmly held in a portion of Miraak’s Journal- a section of history that he had already observed in the past… yet was concurrently in the present, and the future, and non existent all at the same time. That realization would result in the other you’s death.”

“…What?” Argo asked. “I don’t understand what you’re going on about. You say I went forwards into the future then Died??”

“In his world,” The Listener carried on as if she had not been interrupted, “my Brother would go on to take the role I held in mine- Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Guild Master of the Thieve’s Guild… Dragonborn, lost in time.” The Listener then turned to walk up the stairs. “That version of my Brother is the one who currently is fighting the same fights I fought admist the ever increasing edges of a storm that grow closer and closer to shattering reality as a while.” The Listener said. “Things are going differently on his end- because it is in his version of reality where neither you or your sister were sent forwards. Meaning that she is not in that world either.”

“So?” Argo asked, growing angry again. “Where is she then??”  
“In a world that can only be accessed by the utter anhillation of his current plane of existence,” The Listener said as they reached the top of the stairs- where a glowing blue orb rested, floating over the portal. Giant metal plates attached to free-floating crystals surrounded the orb, and were keeping it contained with some kind of magickal ward that they emitted. “This is a paradox clone of the object that will cause that destruction.”

“What is it?” Hildegard asked.

“It’s called the Eye of Magnus,” The Listener said. “In a few moments, it will not exist here- as it was never meant to be here at all. We have a limited window of opportunity to do what needs to be done.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Argo asked.

“To create a Dragon Break encompassing three time lines,” came the voice of the fourth member, Aventus, as he, Babette, and Kor reached the summit. “so that we may then intrude on the events of yet another Dragon Break, and prevent the unleashing of a Dwemer Super Weapon against the Altmer.”

“The Brass Tower- The Ever Walking Giant,” Babette breathed out. “The skin of the Dwemer whose attack lasts for five Eras before destroying all of Tamriel.”

“Numidium,” The Listener said the name with reverence, anger, fear, and disgust all wrapped up in one word.

* * *

 

“You’re telling me that they’re trying to stop Tiber Septim from ascending to the throne?” Nazir barked out a short laugh. “All that to prevent the Altmer from wanting to destroy Tamriel!? That’s got to be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! And the “Eye of Magnus”? There’s no way that even really exists.”

“But it does, Nazir,” Babette mused.

“Really?” Nazir frowned. “That’s news to me.”

“Do you remember that Thalmor patrol me and Mirabelle found last month that got squashed by the Giants?” Babette asked. Nazir nodded, and Babette continued, “Well, their prisoner was a Mage from the College- some guy named Tolfdir- that they’d arrested because of what they’d found in Saarthal. While Mirabelle made sure the Thalmor were really dead, I tracked the Mage down. I found him.”

“Yeah, you said you’d found his body.” Nazir nodded.

“No. I found him alive,” Babette admitted. “Tolfdir swore me to secrecy on why the Thalmor had arrested him! The Eye of Magnus! He said that it was a powerful artifact that the Thalmor wanted to abuse! He got arrested trying to stop them!”

“So… it’s a real thing then.” Nazir frowned. “Alright. So assuming that all of this is true so far,” he turned to Hildegard, “what was their plan for pulling it off?”

* * *

“I don’t understand why Hildegard’s here,” Argo began to talk. “Or Kor, for that matter. Why drag them into this?”

“That’s something I’d like to know myself.” Kor agreed.

“The Pup would have found a way to get up here regardless of whether or not we brought her here,” The Listener said. “The Scrolls show no outcome of what we do that does not result in her interference. It is what we’ve come to call a Fixed Point in our observations of time and space.”

“This way, at least, you know what you’re getting into,” Babette smiled at Hildegard.

“Well, that’s a relief, I suppose,” Hildegard nodded.

“What exactly does she do?” Kor frowned.

“When we alter this version of the Eye,” The Listener explained, “we will be destabilizing the fabric of two versions of reality at two different points of time. During that brief moment, a portal will be opened to a third version of reality, where Silica- the Glass Wolf- resides within.” She paused for a few moments, then said, “While it is our hope that the other version of my Brother will find his way through the maze of shattered glass to the beacon we’ve placed for him- to tell him to find Silica- events are very much in flux at this point and Miraak never observed a timeline past this point for my Brother. He’s very much about to enter a dark pocket of uncertainty, and we have no way of knowing whether or not we can bring her back to the present through his actions.”

“You want me to go instead, don’t you?” Hildegard asked, feeling excitement and dread all wrapped up into one tiny coiled ball of energy in her chest.

“Are you serious!?” Kor cried out. “You can’t send Hilde into that! It’s insane and I–!”

“It’s less “want” and more we’re powerless to do anything against it,” Aventus interrupted Kor with a tone of voice that only barely stayed just shy of full out yelling. “Our plans originally had me going through to find her, but when our Seer looked to the Scrolls… all she can see is you taking the leap.” His hands clenched into fists and he continued on. “There are worlds where you make the jump with our consent and blessing. There are worlds where you take it regardless of our wants and wishes- shoving either me or Argo or even Kor out of the way to take the plunge yourself! There are worlds where you simply just get pulled in while trying to eavesdrop in our conversation and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“We very much do not want to send you into this mess,” The Listener said, talking in a melancholic tone that made it clear she did not like what was going on. “We would very much rather that we not involve anyone else native to this time plane…. but fate is insisting on you going through, and although we cannot tell where you’ll end up because of how chaotic this situation currently is, we are aware that you have a much greater chance of success of finding her.”

“Then why do this?” Argo asked. “Why even DO this if the end result is sending Hildegard through the portal to only the Divines know where! Why even plan something this dangerous?!”

“Because if we don’t?” The Listener said with a sad smile forming. “In the very near future, one man’s actions, left unchecked, causes the complete upheaval of the world we live in. Even today, you can see the retroactive effects of his influence on Cyrodil, and the world at large by extension. It is just that powerful of an event. In result of that man’s ego, it will cause the Aldmeri Dominion to seek the utter destruction of Tamriel out of revenge for their islands being continually attacked for Five, Whole, Eras, by a giant Dwemer robot.”

“But the Dominion would never–” Argo stopped before the words could leave her mouth. And then she growled, “The Veiled Heritance.”

“Yes.” It was an even sadder smile on the Listener’s face. “In the time between now and the time we come from, they’ve taken over the Dominion and twisted it into a murderous machine that regularly purges Valenwood of its citizens, and seeks the utter destruction of reality itself. They seek to return to the ooze and the murk of pre-creation, but they cannot undo what has been done without greater consequences to the planes of existence beyond the Mundus and Oblivion.”

“And yet you’re the Listener for the Brotherhood- assassins and killers-” Argo countered. “Why would you want to fight to prevent that? Surely Sithis would just *love* it if everyone died.”

“Sithis enjoys the current way of things.” The Listener said. “It is amusing, and even when it seems as if the Brotherhood will be wiped out entirely… there are always a few select survivors, and the Night Mother herself.” And then the first hint of a genuine smile formed on her face. “And though we take on this task for our own purposes- there have always been those few idiots over the centuries who have performed the Sacrament in an attempt to have us kill one of the Divines, or one of the Daedric princes. The man who has yet to become the herald of destruction is no exception. And we will, to put it as my Brother once said, ‘Drop it like it’s hot while the pimp’s in the crib.'”

Hildegard couldn’t help but to laugh at that. “What a ridiculous sentence!”

“But accurate,” Babette smiled fondly.

Argo sighed, shaking her head. “If this guy isn’t even born yet- why are you going to all this trouble?”

“Did you know that Cyrodil used to be a tropical jungle?” Aventus asked.

“I’ve read a few books debating that it used to be, yeah,” Kor nodded. “Why?”

“Because the way it is now? It’s because of what that man will do in the future during a Dragon Break.” Aventus answered.

“And as I said, his Retroactive Influence can already be seen,” The Listener concluded, “and while it exists, it means that we cannot do anything but use that power against him… and that is what we’ve been waiting for while we’ve talked all of this time.”


	8. Waking the Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dragon, a Houscarl, and an Imperial Legion enter a mass grave...
> 
> Are you ready for the Punchline?

“So you jumped into the giant swirling vortex to be flung into the far distant future…” Nazir grimaced as he finally sheathed his sword. “Do you have any actual proof of this besides your story and a few coincidentally obscure details of the political environment?”

“This letter,” Hildegard said, pulling a small bottle out of her robes and uncorking it to remove the piece of paper within. “I was told Babette wrote it herself, and to give it to her when I found you. That was my first instruction, actually.” She paused, then quoted the Listener, “‘Upon your arrival wherever it may be, make your way to the Falkreath sanctuary and deliver this letter to Babette.'”

“Let me see it…” the vampire girl strolled up and took the letter to read. “…Yup, that’s my special coded handwriting alright….” And then her pale skin went even paler as she read a few coded lines. “…Nazir?”

“Yeah?” The Redguard asked.

“She’s telling the truth.” Nazir gave her a half-convinced look. “No, seriously, there are private details- personal things only *I* Know!- in here from 300 years ago when I was first turned!” Babette began to point at the top of the letter, but Nazir cut her off with a raised hand and a hurried exclamation of.

“I remember the story!”

“So do you believe me then?” Hildegard asked.

Babette nodded, and Nazir just grunted out a “For now.”

“What can we do to help?” Babette asked.

Hildegard went to speak when a loud crack of a horse whip sounded out from outside, accompanied by some people yelling out.

“Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait,” Nazir muttered quietly with a scowl as he drew his sword. “Babette, hide deeper inside as an ambush. New Girl, if you can fight, prove to me that you’re really Brotherhood by helping me get rid of these clowns.”

“Of course,” Hildegard nodded.

* * *

 

From off the cart’s front, three figures emerged. One was a Cyrodilic man in Imperial Legion armor, sans helmet; another, a woman in full Whiterun Guard gear; and the third, a human mage wielding a long staff, dressed in blue robes. From the back of the cart, four more men in full Imperial Armor climbed off.

“Are you sure about returning to this place so soon?” The Imperial man asked. “Didn’t we kill everyone?”

“If My Thane’s spell wards are correct, there is life inside still,” the woman in the Whiterun armor said. “Furthermore, can you not smell the static in the air?”

The Imperial paused, then nodded. “It’s overwhelming the smoke, yes.”

“Time may have rewritten itself to remove a death we confirmed,” the mage said, pulling her hood down to reveal blue hair of the same color as her robes. Her eyes were framed by a well worn, slightly beaten up set of glasses, and her skin was as pale as any Nords, though her facial features seemed to lean heavily towards some exotic type not commonly seen on Nirn. “Given the unstable nature of our reality, I would rather we not potentially ignore a threat to our hard work at stomping out the Brotherhood from existence. That is why I made the call to observe the ruins for the next week in case something like this were to happen.”

“I suppose that makes sense…” The Imperial nodded.

And with that, the three went inside the still smoking ruins.

The mage spoke words in an unfamiliar language, and the top of her staff began to glow with an effect similar to Mage Light. It sent chills down every Imperial man’s back.

Down the winding stairs they went until they entered the main chamber. Still smoldering remains of a table’s chair set rested at their feet, although the ashes seemed to have been disturbed by footsteps, and recently. Seemingly leading into the burnt out bed chambers.

The Mage narrowed her eyes and looked around. “Maro, take your men and search the rest of the Sanctuary. Siro’, with me.”

“Yes, My Thane,” the woman in Whiterun armor nodded, and held back as Maro took his five men deeper into the sanctuary. _[“What do you see, Tabitha?”]_ She then whispered in the same language as before.

 _[“It is less what I see, and more what I feel,”]_ the Mage, “Tabitha,” answered. _[“A disturbance in the world I haven’t felt since the failed Summoning Ritual.”]_

 _[“Could it be_ **her** _?”]_ The woman, “Siro,” asked.

 _[“I’m not sure…”]_ And with that, the Mage turned into the bedroom.

There was the burnt down bed, the nightstand that upon which Tabitha saw something strange that had survived the fire, and a toppled book-case leading to the hidden chamber where the Matron, Astrid, had been slain.

Nothing seemed out of place save the object, and so she cautiously investigated it. It, being a necklace of gold with an ebony charm shaped like a hand; such a thing was likely not out of place in a building such as this, and yet…

Tabitha ran her thumb over the charm, and found that the only soot that covered it came from the parts that had been touching the nightstand in the first place.  
Why would someone place it here? She frowned, and mulled over the item’s placement for a few moments before looking around the rest of the room carefully, looking for anything else out of place….

A few moments later, the sound of glass crashing, followed by three grown men screaming like children came from deeper within the sanctuary, and the Guard and the Mage both cursed their foolishness.

The Necklace was a Distraction!

Hurriedly, Tabitha and Siro rushed down the stairs into the main chamber of the Sanctuary, and found her five hired Imperial soldiers whittled down to three. Two of them were lying face down in the rapidly reddening pool at the center of the Sanctuary- apparently having been thrown through the open window above.

Maro was not one of the survivors- she noticed.

“What happened?” Tabitha demanded of the first man to meet her eyes.

“I- It–” The man stammered. “There was this girl’s giggling! We saw a shadow up in the balcony above- Commander Maro thought it the Vampire so he and Janus went after it- since they had Dawnguard training.”

“That was stupid of him to split off from his group,” Siro growled, much like a dragon. Tabitha sighed- very much in agreement.

“And then what happened?” Tabitha asked.

“Then their bodies went flying through he window and landed right in front of us!” The man answered. “We didn’t know what to do except scream for help!”

The Mage looked around the room- there was but one door leading to the upper levels that was evidently a trap. But it was the only place they could go that would let them deeper in; from Tabitha’s own handiwork- the other doorways had been crushed and blocked off with rubble.

With a reluctant sigh, Tabitha made the decision to head deeper inside the Sanctuary.

The murder scene of Commander Maro and Sgt. Janus was easy to find- a sudden explosion of blood on the stairs that trailed up into the room that a large window had once been present. Judging from the initial spray patterns, Tabitha was willing to bet one of the men had been stabbed in the back and through the chest with a very long sword; while the other seemed to be the result of three quick jabs to the chest, gut, and somewhere lower with a shorter weapon, possibly a dagger.

Two assassins- likely a synchronized kill.

Tabitha wracked her memories for a long sword user- and came up with the Redguard. Yes, a scimitar would cause that spray pattern. As for a knife user… No names came to mind besides the Matron- which implied that Astrid had been resurrected by the recent time burst.

No matter, she would be dead again soon enough.

Slowly, surely, as a single group they moved through the rest of the sanctuary before emerging into the burnt down sleeping chambers over looking the ruined dining area.

And there, standing in the center of it all was a lone girl in Brotherhood clothing. It had to be the vampire. But in her hands was a knife, long, wicked, and Daedric looking…. covered in blood.

Tabitha reworked her mental estimate. So it was the Redguard and the Vampire- not the revived Astrid. Interesting.

While her men were afraid, and her Houscarl wanted a fight, Tabitha made the executive decision to step forwards into the sunlight pouring through a recently opened hole in the roof.

“Hello,” Tabitha voiced, and the blond haired nordic girl looked up at her. There was a flower in her hair, also covered in a few specks of blood. “And just who might you be?”

“I could ask you the same question,” The girl smiled, twirling the knife around idly in her hand as they locked eyes and stared into each others souls.

Tabitha saw a raw hunger, and a thirst for blood in the eyes of that girl. A Vampire for sure. But as to the cold, oppressing look of “I will kill you” that Tabitha sent towards the girl… she did not flinch at it. No, instead, she began tossing the knife from hand to hand casually, with a trained ease that Tabitha saw from only a few people.

Skill a young girl like her should not have.

Still, something itched a warning at the back of Tabitha’s mind. The clothing was off. The girl was wearing Brotherhood clothes, yes, but…. the style was different from everyone else she’d seen on her previous march through the Sanctuary. It was more form fitting- with many belts crisscrossing the red body suit which had a knee-length skirt added on for the sheer sake of having a skirt… and as for the chest… the hand was missing. That wasn’t right. It should have had a Brotherhood hand print on it. Where was the hand print?   
  
  


“I am Thane Tabitha of Whiterun, special advisor to the Imperial Legion stationed in Skyrim,” Tabitha introduced. “And you?”

“I can’t say that name rings a bell,” The girl replied easily, casually, almost as if she weren’t facing certain death. “Babette, Dark Brotherhood… But I suspect you already knew that.”

“Yes, you’re the Vampire,” Tabitha smiled- and the girl smiled back in turn… it was a feral smile. One that promised much spilled blood. Almost… wolfish, Tabitha supposed. “So, you survived the burning by…. being outside, I take it?”

“I was hiding in the pool,” the girl replied, shrugging before beginning to examine her knife. “You’d be surprised what people will miss when it’s hiding right in front of them.”

“I suppose Maro and Janus were to prove a point?” Tabitha asked.

“Was that their names?” The girl answered, sounding wonderfully…. not whelmed at all in either direction.

“That was, yes,” Tabitha answered, starting to feel comfortable in this situation, despite the almost certainty that the other survivor was coming around for a sneak attack sometime soon.

“Ah, well, I suppose I should remember that…” The girl mused, tilting the blade around in her hands until the light seemed to reflect off of its bloodied surface onto her face. “I wonder which was which? Whom did my blade kill?” She then gave a dry, sideways glance up at Siro, the three surviving, cowering Imperials, and then back at Tabitha. “Although, I seem to have done you a disservice, despite how honest you’ve been with me so far. I must admit I lied with one thing so far.”

“And what’s that?” Tabitha asked.

“My name isn’t Babette.” Tabitha blinked- and in that single span of a second, the girl had teleported from the floor and had buried the knife into one of the remaining imperial guards, meanwhile, the damnable Redguard had slipped out of the shadows and delivered a decapitating blow to one of the others.

Tabitha and Siro needed not even share a glance before jumping away from the overlook, free falling into the burnt out kitchen for the few precious moments it took for the girl to take her knife out of the one Imperial man’s back and then throw it straight into the third’s throat.

Siro growled as they landed, and Tabitha narrowed her eyes at the two Assassins. Damn it, she had let herself grow complacent. What kind of spell was that to teleport in the blink of an eye? To cover such distance?? Not one that she’d learned from the College of Winterhold, that was for sure.

“Nice trick,” The Redguard mused as he wiped the blood off his sword. “I take it that’s one from the old home land?”

“Thanks,” The girl needed no such movement, instead the blade dissolved out of the man’s throat entirely. It was simply gone. “It is, yes.”

“Who are you- really?” Tabitha asked, pointing her staff head at them- not quite yet ready to engage them in battle.

“My name is Hildegard-” she answered. “I am an Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, sent from the Gold Coast on a rescue mission.”

“You’ve obviously failed-” Siro spat out venomously. “Save that Redguard- they’re all dead, and soon, so will you!”

“I’m not here to rescue him,” ‘Hildegard’ said at the same time the Redguard replied, “She’s not here for me.”

“Then. _**Who?**_ ” Tabitha pressed- she had to know for when she survived this encounter.

“Unless one of your names is ‘Silica’, it’s none of your business.” Hildegard replied, and Tabitha frowned.

“‘Glass’?” She translated the term from her native tongue to basic Tamrielic. No, that wasn’t quite right. It had to be the name of a person here in Tamriel who was named ‘Silica’- despite the similarity of the term to her own native tongu-

Too little too late did Tabitha realize that she’d let her guard down once more, and threw her staff out to block as the spry little nordic girl crashed into her with twin blades of glowing red energy– _**THAT SPELL!!!**_

With only a hiss of an inhaled breath as a prelude, Tabitha roared, _**“FUS RO DAH!!”**_

Hildegard went flying backwards, but somersaulted in mid air and landed on her feet.

“SIRO!” Tabitha roared- “Take care of the Redguard.”

“Of course, Tabi!” And Siro leaped with a set of spread dragon wings towards the upper balcony where the Redguard still stood ready to fight.

“…What are you?” Hildegard glared at Tabitha as they begun to circle the kitchen. “I’ve never seen a spell caster quite like you before.” She summoned the knife again and held it in a ready position.

“I’m afraid I lied a bit too,” Tabitha answered, twirling her staff around in preparation of a spell. “One of omission. They also call me ‘ _Dovahkiin_ ‘, Dragonborn.”

“I see,” Hildegard held no visible reaction to that, and instead threw the knife at her.

 _ **“ZUN!”**_ With a single word, the knife went off course- disappearing into thin air as it went off course. But in the course of that, the girl had vanished into thin air- “What…?”

 _“NICE TRICK!”_ And then a boot crashed into Tabitha’s back as Hildegard rolled over her with a flash of green light that was barely visible before Tabitha’s face hit the ground. Once more- her glasses gave a dangerous crunching sound.

 _ **“FIEM!”** _ Tabitha roared, and then got to her feet even as a set of crimson blades came flying at her- _**THAT SPELL TOO!**_ – and passed through harmlessly.

Tabitha and Hildegard circled once more while the ethereal shout temporarily held Tabitha in an immortal, ghostly state.

“You… you have the same powers as those _Dark Seducers_ ,” Tabitha’s voice echoed while the effect was in play. “What are you really then? A Daedra? One of Molag Bal’s servants? What is this girl to you?”

“In order, Human, Nord, No… someone’s **_sister_**.” Hildegard glared as she drew out the Blade of Woe once more. “You seem surprised that I have these skills that many people have where I come from. Surprised by these skills specifically. Why?”

“Nightblades… ” Tabitha glared as the ghostly appearance of her body faded away. “I don’t know what that term means, but I do know that the ones that have those powers invaded my home. Destroyed everything I knew and loved in the Planemeld.”

“You know of the Planemeld?” And for once- Hildegard was caught off guard.

 _ **“YOL TOOR SHUL!”**_ Tabitha roared- and flames once more engulfed the sanctuary. _“YES I KNOW OF IT!”_ She roared as she spied Hildegard jumping out of the massive ring of fire. _“I WATCHED!_ **I _FOUGHT!_** Everyone AND _EVERYTHING_ was _**LOST** _ when Molag Bal came knocking!”

“The Planemeld has been fought to a stand still where I come from!” Hildegard shouted back as she threw out her hand and cast some kind of draining spell. Tabitha felt a bit weakened as a bolt of red magic shot back into the Nord. It only made her madder. “Molag Bal’s plans have been stopped!”

Correction.

_**THAT** made her madder._

“So YOUR WORLD…” Tabitha growled. “You’re the ones who made him take over MY WORLD INSTEAD!”

“He did What!?” Hildegard faltered and Tabitha fired off the spell that had been gathering in her staff- a giant frigid bolt of ice type magic.

There was an explosion of ice- and the entire room went blinding white in the mean time.

_**“MUL! QAH! DIIV!”** _

And then Tabitha’s world became burning orange.

“I will kill you… yes…” Tabitha growled as she approached the partially frozen, and very definitely paralyzed. “But not before you tell me how you came here and what this Silica person means to your master’s plans…” She took a breath, then roared, _**“AND YOU TELL ME WHAT HE DID TO LOUISE!”**_

She raised her staff up, ready to deliver a finishing blow to Hildegard’s head, when suddenly a rock hit her in the back of her head.

It bounced off of the magical Dragon Soul armor covering her head, but it still was noticeable none the less. Tabitha whirled on her heels- the Redguard was still fighting Siro- so… There was another girl- this time in the proper robes- and much younger looking.

This was Babette, the Vampire, without a doubt.

“And just WHAT do you think that would do!?” Tabitha asked, her voice just barley avoiding rising into a roar.

“Distract you?” Babette gave a fanged smile.

A moment later- there was a massive crunch of ice and the howl of a wolf from right ontop of her as something LARGE crashed into Tabitha from behind and sent her flying across the room into a wall.

Her magic staff went flying from her hand somewhere in the meantime.

Only through the might of Dragon Aspect did Tabitha survive the blow conscious. Standing where Hildegard had been was now a female Werewolf with a flower on the side of her head.

Hildegard was a werewolf, then?

Tabitha blinked as she picked herself up to her feet. “I should have seen that coming, somehow.”

The wolf just gave a massive howl- and then leaped across the room at her.

 _“FUS **RO–!** “_ The shout didn’t complete, and even with the boost from Aspect, the two words did little against the enraged Werewolf who slammed her suddenly glowing claws into her magical armor and sending her flying once again- this time down into a large pool of water that presently was home to a massive spider’s corpse.

By the time Tabitha picked herself up and got back into the fight- Siro had been ganged up on by three Assassins, and was suddenly on the back foot as the Werewolf raked her claws across the wings, and the redguard’s scimitar blade came crashing down on one of Siro’s shoulders.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!!!” Tabitha roared- and it was enough to cause the entire place to shake, rumble, and begin to fall apart.

“Well, I think we’ve done enough damage here for one day!” The Redguard observed as he pulled his blade free from the deep wound in Siro’s shoulder- causing the dragon girl to cry out in pain as it came loose.

“Let’s go!!!” Babette agreed- and with that, she and Nazir took off at a run.

The Werewolf only hesitated to turn and issue a bellowing roar at Tabitha as she came running after them.

After taking such a powerful beating, Dragon Aspect failed, and Tabitha was hit with the full force of a howl that knocked her flat onto her back and felt like it nearly liquified most of her internal organs. By the time she got back to her feet, and over to Siro, who was curled up into a ball and crying heavily, the three Assassins were long gone.

As if sensing her anger fueled emotions- the whole sanctuary shook and trembled in time with Tabitha’s growing rage.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaannnd, posted. Took me long enough to get these three parts up. If you've been following on Entering Skyrim, I'll probably be posting the existing Vestige chapters on this story as well, soonish... if I'm not lazy/unreasonably hesitant like I was to put these ones up here.


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